Little Caged Bird
by mist8ke
Summary: After losing the Final Battle, Hermione was left to die in a cell floors beneath the ministry. That was until Snape arrived and rescued her. Well, rescue isn't exactly the right word. She goes from one cage to another, except this one, she shared with a temperamental and unpredictable man. (SSHG pairing, AU, post-war)
1. Chapter 1

"Do stop Snivelling," he remarked calmly as he pulled her along roughly by the elbow through the crowded atrium of what used to be the Ministry. She didn't know what it was called now since the Ministry technically no longer existed. It had been overthrown just two weeks ago. But from her small holding cell in the lowest level of this place, she heard very little news about the events following the battle.

In fact, she was still uncertain what was to become of her. She had been woken up from unconsciousness by a rough jailer who proceeded to give her to none other than her loathsome Potion's Professor, the traitor, and the spy.

Weeks in that cell with little food and surrounded by cold, damp and stale air, she was certain that would have died. In fact, she welcomed it. But now, she was being dragged to the floo connection.

In the commotion of the atrium and with a pounding headache she felt herself becoming weaker and weaker. It was fortunate that they had arrived to the Floo Connection because she could barely stand.

"Please…" she mumbled trying to gain his attention. "I…"

And that was all she could remember before darkness consumed her.

She woke to something cold pressed against her forehead. The cold object moved from her forehead to her cheek and then it disappeared.

It took some efforts but she managed to open her eyes briefly before they closed again like heavy gates.

"Drink," a voice rumbled those words softly to her and suddenly something cold pressed against her lips and thick liquid began to trickle down her throat.

Soon another vial was pressed against her lips, then another, and another. In her fever induced state she realised that never in her life has she had so many potions crammed down her throat. This was the result of being put in the care of a Potion Master. At least he was a competent one.

With that thought, she felt the soothing and in the past weeks, the familiar, feeling of sleep wash over her. She wondered briefly if this time, it was going to be it for her. This time, she wouldn't have to wake up again. She was no longer in pain and she felt warm.

When she woke again, she was disoriented and unsure of where she was. The ceiling was a pale yellowish brown and there were mold prints in the left corner of the ceiling. It reminded her briefly of Number 12 Grimmauld Place but the cluster of bottles, vials and assortment of books on the dresser was not familiar to her.

"Uh…." She groaned as she tried to prop herself up onto her elbows to get a better view of the room.

From her new vantage point, the room still looked unfamiliar to her. But the Slytherin pin on the bedside table jogged her memories. She remembered the dark and damp cell, being dragged out of that cell unceremoniously, and then the potions.

She was in Snape's home.

Speak of the devil, the man himself appeared in the doorway as soon as she came to that conclusion. He entered the room and in three large strides, he stood directly besides the bed, towering over her.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked clinically.

"No…" but she realised that that wasn't true. "My chest hurt."

He gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and handed her two vials. She drank them both under his watchful gaze and handed the vials back with trembling hand. She was on edge and terrified of the man that loomed over her in black. Never in her life, has she been so afraid of the man. She had always regarded him with a sense of respect and admiration. But after what he's done during the war, she wasn't sure what to think of him. But right now, he was the enemy and he was an enemy who held her life in his hands.

"You will not try to leave this house. It is warded," he stated simply.

"Okay," she replied in a raspy voice.

He conjured a glass of water and set it on the bedside table before he moved around the room and opened drawers. She wondered if this was his room and why he was not sleeping here. How long had she been sleeping for.

"I cannot continue to cast cleansing spells on you," he told her. "Take these. The bathroom is across the hall. I suggest you take a bath, you are not strong enough to stand for too long."

With that he put the towel and folded clothes on the bed and left the room.

After two weeks sleeping on the floor, no amount of cleansing charms would remove the grime from her. On top of that, she had also been camping in the forest months before that. Needless to say, she was grateful when she submerged herself into the warm and soapy water.

However, she couldn't help but think of the future. Was this warm bath a sort of last meal for her? What would be of her? Perhaps she'd be given to the Death Eaters to be defiled and killed at a revel. Or maybe she'd be kept by one of those sadists. None of those were fates she wanted.

She wondered what her chances to escape were. They probably weren't good. At least not the conventional definition of escaping. She could always just… just leave this world. But a small part of her had hope, hope for a better future. It was going to happen, she just had to survive long enough.

She closed her eyes and let herself relax for the moment. She was alone and there was no immediate threat.

It was only when she heard the banging of a door swinging open, that she realised she had dozed off.

A very frantic man stood at the door and stared at her, gaping.

She realised that she was naked in the tub and felt very vulnerable. But shouting at the man just did not seem like a good idea.

"You have been here for almost an hour," he told her.

"I… I fell asleep," she explained weakly as she stared down at her prunie fingers.

"Get out," he told her in a tone that left her little choice.

He had the decency of keeping his eyes from roaming her body and handed her the towel when she left the tub.

She headed back to his room and dressed herself in the clothes he left her. They were obviously too large for her and she had to roll up the sleeves and the pants at least three times before they fit, but they were clean and soft lounge clothes.

It felt uncomfortably intimate to be wearing a strange man's clothes. Though said strange man did just see her naked, and in her mind, she knew that it would most likely not be the last time a strange man would see her naked and the next one may not be quite as reserved as Snape.

The knock on the door dragged her out of her bleak thoughts.

"Come," he ordered her as he opened the door.

They found themselves in his small kitchen after trudging down the creaky and wobbly stairs. During their short travel, she realised that it was a very typical 1900th century house. It reminded her of her grandparents' place but far less inviting. Even the fridge and the stove were the same as the ones they had.

He proceeded to turn on the stove and heat a pot of something before sitting down across from the woman who had been watching his every move.

"I will not harm you," he reassured her. But then added, "Unless you give me a reason to. The Dark Lord has seen it fit to give you to be as a… reward," he said the word as if it were distasteful. Whether the distaste was due to her presence or something else, she could not tell. "You will help around the house and assist me when I require it. Any attempt on my life or to escape and I will send you to Madame Morris'. Do I make myself clear?"

She didn't know what Madame Morris' was but it did not sound appealing. And given all her fears, this was not the worst thing that could have happened to her. So she nodded.

"You will reply when spoke to," he reprimanded her. "And you may refer to me as Sir here and in public."

"Yes sir," she replied.

As Severus stood up to fetch her some soup and a piece of bread, he was glad that she was such a quick learner. Perhaps she would be able to survive this.

During the past four days, Hermione has been recovering with remarkable speed. This was mostly in part due to the potions that Snape kept on giving her daily. With her recovery came new tasks that he appointed her. They were quite easy and mundane but they kept her busy all day. She'd spent the first day dusting the house by hand. The next two days, she proceeded to wash all of the surfaces of the house. Finally today, she was told to cook their meals for the day. She did all of this at her own pace and saw very little of her keeper.

While she waited for the roast to cook, she sat in his small living room and discreetly read a book she pulled off from one of his many bookshelves. It was a harmless muggle book but she still wasn't sure if he would mind.

So when Severus strode into the room, she quickly hid the book underneath her. Of course, a man who has been a spy for decades saw through it immediately.

"What are you hiding?" he almost growled at her.

"No… noth…" but she couldn't finish it. He wasn't stupid.

He moved towards her like a predator stalking his prey, he knelt down across from her at eye level and held her by the chin so she could not look away. As realisation darned on her, she felt him barge into her mind and scavenge her thoughts. When he left her mind, she was disoriented and a little nauseous. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"Do not hide things from me," he reproached her. Then added after a pause. "You may read anything on the two shelved in the living room. Return them to their place when you are done."

"Roast will be done in another 10 minutes, sir," she told him, hoping to move his attention away from her earlier indiscretion. "I will go set the table."

He moved away from her so that she could go to the kitchen. She was such a young and brave little thing. He hated to have to put her through this but it was the only way.

When he walked into the dining room, he looked at the places set on the table and scowled at her.

"What's this?" he asked her knowing full well she had no idea what he was asking.

"I… I set the table?"

"You," he said snidely. "Are not to eat with me. If fact, once you serve me, you will stand next to me at my beck and call."

There was a pause where she registered this and nodded, "Yes, sir."

She shakily put the plate and cutlery away before serving his the roast beef, grilled potatoes, and fresh greens. Had this entire experience not have been incredibly painful for him, he would have quite enjoyed this meal. He forced himself to pretend to be enjoying himself. He ate slowly as she watched from besides him.

Hermione felt faint as she stood there on an empty stomach. She was still recovering from weeks of malnutrition and today, she had been looking forward to eating this meal.

But she had been deluding herself by thinking that she could live comfortably. She was essentially a prisoner of war. She should be counting her blessings.

When supper was over she was glad to have some times to eat. But she had lost her appetite from her new revelation that her life was no longer going to be easy. The months of camping was not a hardship compared to this.

As she did the dishes the muggle way, she felt a presence in the room with her again. She knew who it was and tried to not be frazzled by his appearance.

But when he began to approach her, she tensed up. She stopped breathing entirely when she felt his body press against hers and his chin rested on top of her head.

"I… dishes," was all she could muster.

With a wave of his wand the sink emptied.

"All gone," he told her smugly. His hands snaked around her waist and roamed her body slowly. The thin cotton of his clothes did nothing to protect her against his advanced. His lips trailed up and down her neck as he whispered to her, "I've had to wait days for this."

A shiver ran though her and she was too confused to understand what exactly that shiver was about. Suddenly she found herself being spun around and lifted onto the sink and was at eye level with him.

He leaned down and kissed her roughly. The kiss was demanding and aggressive. His teeth nipped at her lips and he held her head with a hand behind it.

When he pulled away from her, his eyes were dilated and he was panting. He roguishly wiped his lips with the back of his hands and looked down crassly at her.

"Alas we must leave for the Malfoy's" he spoke nonchalantly as if he did not just assault her. As if his hands were not currently still trailing the curve of her behind and slid into the waist of her pants.

She found herself lifted off the counter and her lips were once again captured by him. In between the kiss he mumble, "We can afford to waste a few more minutes." In the heat of the moment, she did not realise that her pants were now discarded and her hair was being mussed up.

When he pulled away again he gave her a wicked grin, "We'll finish this late. Be good later and I'll try to be gentle."

With those words, he wrapped her into his arms and she felt the familiar suction feeling of apparition. When the feeling ended, she heard hushed chattering and felt a breeze on her now bare legs.

"Severus!" a loud boastful voice shouted. "Is this your new pet?"

"Yes," he told the man curtly but he did push her out for the man to leer at. "I have a meeting with the Dark Lord."

"Ever the rule follower," the other man sighed dramatically. "We won! Celebrate a little!"

"I would like to get this done and over with," he explained with a smirk. "I plan to have my own celebration late tonight." At those words, looked pointedly at Hermione and pulled her flush against his body. As he did this he bent down and whispered into her ear, "You will be obedient or I will make you suffer."

She was reminded that the man had a way with words and knew exactly how to incite fear as she quivered.

They walked down a long hallway with checkered black and white marble flooring, which she stared at the entire time. Inside the set of double doors, was an equally empty hallway but this one ended with a large throne at the end of the room. If she were not so scared, she would have scoffed at the fact that the Malfoy's had a throne room.

"Ssssseverus, my mossssst faithful sssssservant," the red eyes snake-man welcomed him with open arms. "I sssee you are enjoying your little pet."

"Yes my lord," he replied as he bowed politely. He put a forceful hand on her shoulders and applied pressure until she took the hint and got onto her knees.

"Obedient," his master remarked.

"Yes," he agreed. "Was there something you needed my Lord?"

"Potionssss," the snake-man demanded. "My body isss weakening."

"I shall make the usual then," he complied.

"Sssstronger," he told the other man.

"Very well, but it may take longer,"

"How long?"

"Two months," Severus estimated. "At most."

"Very well," and that put an end to that subject. But he was not done with his guests. "Mudblood," he called to her. "Come to me."

Hermione looked at Snape for an indication of what she should do and at his urging, she approached the reptilian man. Before she knew what was happening said man, if he could even still be called a man, entered her mind and began to pillage her thoughts. If she had thought Snape was rough when he entered her mind then this was on a whole new level of pain.

In quick successions images of her time with Harry in the woods flashed before her, then of Ron's death and Harry's goodbyes, then of her time in the cell and finally of her time with Severus. The perverse megalomaniac paused on the memories where Snape ravaged her and ordered her like a slave. Then it all became too much for her and she passed out.

She was awakened to the sight of Snape pointing his wand at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her death but it never came.

Instead he belittled her and helped her to her feet, "Foolish weakling," he sighed. "I'm afraid we must take out leave before she becomes sick in your presence."

"I sssshall sssee you in two monthssss," the snake-man promised.

She couldn't really remember what happened afterwards but she did remember the pulls of apparition, being fed some minty potion, and being tucked into a comfortable bed.

A/N- Hello fellow readers! I know that I have an unfinished story but I really wanted to write this one. While i will be updating slower, I will try to make this story more coherent, better edited and overall nicer. I hope you enjoy it!

As always, I own nothing and please drop me a comment or message if you want. I like reading your stuff as much as you enjoy reading mine!


	2. Chapter 2

Following her meeting with the horrid reptile, she tried to stay out of Snape's way as much as possible. She was worried that he'd make truth of his promise and accost her the next time they crossed path. For his part, he stayed in his lab in the basement for the past few days.

When he finally emerged from his lab, he looked worn and pale. Despite her aversion to being near him at the moment, she could not help but feel bad for the poor man. But she hadn't forgotten about his promise to finish what he started Thursday night.

"I will not touch you Hermione," he promised her tiredly as he sat at the kitchen table. "I would however, appreciate some food."

"Of course, sir," she acquiesced to his demands and turned on the stove to reheat the stew she had made yesterday.

She took out a bowl for him and set the cutlery in front of him and he grabbed her wrist before she could move away. "Eat with me today, please." He was so sincere that Hermione had a hard time saying no.

"I… are you sure?" she asked a little worried by his request.

"I would not ask you if was not," he told her exasperated.

Hermione proceeded to grab herself some cutlery and set down two bowls of stew on the table. She broke off some bread and gave a piece to Snape before finally sitting down.

"This tastes wonderful," he complimented her in a tone she was unaccustomed to.

"Thank you," she replied politely and a little uncertainly.

That was all the conversation they managed while eating. Occasionally Hermione would look up from her bowl to catch him staring at her with a curious look on his face.

Today, Snape cleared the plates with a wave of his wand and headed up the stairs without a word to her. She suspected that he must have gone upstairs to shower. As she heard the sound of water and piping, she settled herself into his small living room and began to continue reading her book. It was a nice luxury to have in a time such as this.

She grew sleepy very quickly as she read under the dim light and decided to risk running into Snape and head upstairs to sleep.

The hallway was clear when she walked to the top of the stairs. She quickly strode into the bedroom and ran straight into the man she was trying to avoid.

She stared aghast at walking in on the man shirtless and drying his hair. She couldn't help but notice how nice he smelled. He was a pale man and he was all lean muscles.

"Do you need something?" he asked her with an amused look.

"I was going to go to bed," she tried to explain.

"About that," Snape began and sat down on the bed. "There is only one bed in this house. There is a cot in my lab, but it is little better than the sleeping on the floor. As you are fully recovered now, I shall be taking my bed back. You may choose to sleep in it with me, or sleep on the floor."

"I…" she was speechless.

She weighted the pros and cons of sleeping in the same bed at him. She has slept close to Ron and Harry before. But they were her friends and they did not intimidate her. They have also never accosted her.

"Despite my previous behaviour," Snape sighed. "I will not molest you in your sleep. I like my partners to be conscious."

Hermione continued to stand in the room awkwardly until Severus slipped into bed and turned off the light with a wave of his wand. She could not see where he put his wand but decided that it was probably not wise to try to take it at this very moment. She would bid her time.

Reluctantly, she crawled into the other side of the bed and tried to get some sleep.

At some point during the night, Severus woke up, startled as something hit him in his sleep. It took him a few seconds to realise that what hit him was in fact Hermione's arm. He looked at the young sleeping woman and couldn't find it in himself to be vexed at her. After all, with all that he was putting her through, she was allowed to accidentally wake him up once in a while.

He rolled over and listened as her even breath lulled him back to sleep.

When she woke up that morning, to an empty bed, which was not out of the norm for her. It wasn't until she came to her senses that she began to wonder where the man was.

It didn't quite matter to her as she headed into the shower and took care of her morning routine.

He also was not in the kitchen when she went down to get herself a bite to eat. AS it has been a week already, she notice that the dust was settling on the furniture again and she knew what she could do for the day.

By lunch he was still missing and she began to wonder if he were in his lab or had gone out.

She tried the front door and the back door, neither seemed to respond to her efforts. As she readied herself to try the large kitchen window, Snape walked through the front door with a bag.

I hope you are not getting any stupid ideas," he warned her seriously. "While you are in these walls, you are protected. Out there, I cannot help you."

"I was just… airing out the house," she lied quite convincingly. But not convincingly enough from the look he gave her.

She silently served him his lunch which consisted of a ham sandwich and salad. It has occurred to him that for the first time ever, the food in the fridge was no longer rotting and he actually ate wholesome meals.

"I would like to have you assist me in the lab later," he commented nonchalantly.

Hermione's eyes lit up like a child's during Christmas. "Of course!" Then as an afterthought she added, "sir."

"Hermione," he got her attention. "Perhaps in the confined of this house, you may drop the 'sirs' and refer to me as Severus."

"Um… okay, Severus," she agreed slowly. Part of her was afraid that this was a trick or a test. It wasn't. But it felt too personal. She did not want to be on such personal terms with him, least her lack of contempt towards him leads to something worse.

Despite their unbalanced relationship, neither of them had any fatal flaws. If she looked past the fact that he was her keeper, Hermione could actually see that they had much in common. But she could not look past that fact.

"Follow me then," he motioned as he opened the basement door.

She was not surprised to find that the lab downstairs was an exact replica of the lab in Hogwarts. It was almost comforting to come to such a familiar place.

"I trust you will not make any attempts on my life with this knife," he said handing her a chopping knife. "Please cut the ginseng roots into 2millimiter thin slices."

And with that, he left her to her task while he stirred the three boiling cauldrons around the room and added ingredients when his wand vibrated.

Time passed far quicker than she expected as she crushed, sliced, and cubed various potion ingredients. In her mind, she kept track of what she processed and tried to hazard a guess as to what she was helping make. Despite her situation, she was still fully aware of the fact that she is responsible for any potion she helps make. But best not dwell on that fact too long, it may just drive her insane. After all, she did just crush Hellebore, a known potent poisonous agent.

But always the Know-it-all, the question of what she was helping create nagged at her until supper time when she could hold it in no longer.

"What potions are you preparing?" she asked curiously as they sat down to dine. When he did not respond she continued, "I suspect the small cauldron is the Elixir of Life, and the one with Hellebore is a form of the Pyronius Mortem potion."

He looked at her from a top his glass as he sipped at his wine. He did not look very happy at her inquiries.

"I apologize," she mumbled making sure she did not anger the man or something. "It's not my place to ask."

"No it is not," he glared at her. "However… it would be safer if you did know, lest you put in the wrong ingredient at least you will know of the consequences. You are right on the Elixir of Life, but the Hellebore potion is in fact an invention of my own. It is an Antidote to all poisons, a work in progress. Many of the Death Eaters, myself included drink it on a monthly basis. The last potion is a potent contraceptive or rather a sterilizing potion for the workers of Madame Morris'.

"It's a whore house isn't it?" she asked sadly.

"That is one of the kinder ways to put it," he replied casually. She wanted to throttle him for him nonchalance. Her friends would be in there.

"What kind of women are…" but knew didn't want to know.

"Prisoners of war, the poor, those who have wronged the winning side," he sighed tiredly. "Would knowing about it really make a difference?"

"It is my burden to bare," she grinded her teeth at him. She did not that her knowledge of what went on in there would do nothing but give her sleepless nights, but she had to know what was happening, she could have the will to fight and change it.

"Perhaps." He enunciated threateningly. "You should focus on surviving you foolish girl. You are fortunate that your potion skills are valuable, but you best find some more uses for yourself soon or I might just send you to that whore house myself."

That shut her up for the remainder of their meal.

She tried to read her book but found it impossible to focus when she thought of the millions of girls at Morris' who were being sterilized. What a horrid fate. While she could not imagine having a child any time soon, it was barbaric to take away that chance from any woman. Though on the other hand, none of the woman probably wanted to be with child with the men that visited them.

At least Snape didn't force her to do anything with him. Well except that one time in the kitchen. But she suspected that that was all an act to confound her. She wondered if he preferred men, he did say 'partner' and not women in their earlier conversation.

Her eyes settled onto a fairly new looking muggle book that seemed interesting. It was a small book of contemporary poetry. As she read a few poems she was struck my how bleak and lonely the poems were. Obviously, the book had been read before, from the bent in the spine, but was this what Snape read in his free time? Was this how he felt? She was probably reading too much into it, or projecting her own feelings. She liked to believe that everyone was worth saving.

She reread the lines on the page before her,

"flesh covers  
the bone and the  
flesh searches  
for more than  
flesh.

there's no chance  
at all:  
we are all trapped  
by a singular  
fate.

nobody ever finds  
the one.

the city dumps fill  
the junkyards fill  
the madhouses fill  
the hospitals fill  
the graveyards fill

nothing else  
fills."

The words make her feel hollow inside and she wanted to lash out at something or someone for having depicted their current society so cruelly, so truthfully. She wondered if the author was a wizard but it didn't matter.

With a sense of nothingness and slight pity, she headed up the stairs, wondering if she would have to sleep next to Snape again. That also didn't matter because what choice did she have in the matter. And it wasn't like she really felt his presence once she entered unconsciousness.

She walked in as he was tucking his wand beneath his pillow. He looked up when she walked in and gave her a nod of acknowledgement before laying down and turning off the lights.

She quietly moved about the room and finally settled in bed new to him. In the dim light from the window she could see the silhouette of the man next to her. He was all sharp edges and angles. So unapproachable. Yet, after weeks of solitude, he had been a welcome human connection.

Maybe it was because she hadn't felt human touch in so long, that she began to long for his. That night in the kitchen, it hadn't been torturous for her. Aside from the initial shock, she found the experience enlightening and exciting.

As she stared at his angular features, she found herself slowly drifting to sleep.

When Hermione came to the following morning, she felt well rested and relaxed. The bed was warm and cozy and smelled like sandalwood. It was marvellous. She hugged her blanket closer to her chest only to find it groan and move in her grasp.

With a gasp her eyes burst open and she was met with the sight of a pale, sparsely haired chest. She was afraid to move or look up at the owner of said chest because she knew who it was and how he would most likely react.

The arm draped around her waist tightened momentarily and then she felt herself being pushed onto her back. She came face to face with a very awake and aroused man who was now hovering over her.

"It seems you are quite an affectionate sleeper," he smirked at her. She wondered if she did anything mortifying while asleep, or something that would have given him the wrong impression, or the right one.

"I… I… please," she tried to make out as she desperately wanted to move from her vulnerable position beneath him.

"Please what Hermione?" he whispered at her like a lover. "Please touch you? Please caress you? Please kiss you?"

With each word he leaned down closer and closer to her face until they were centimeters away. She couldn't help but stare at the lips that only days ago made her feel things she had never expected. Then she chided herself and tried to clear her head.

"Go make me breakfast," he ordered her suddenly as he flung himself off of her. "I'm going to take a shower."

Just like that, he left the room and a very rattled woman on his bed.

As she made breakfast, Hermione could not help but wonder about Snape's behaviour. While he often ignores her completely and is aloof to her, sometimes he looks at her with such intensity that she can feel herself heat up. And his touch in those moments was so inviting but wrong. She knew it was wrong.

But she was also reminded that while she felt conflicted about her physical proximity with Snape, many woman didn't even have the luxury of choice. Those who were less fortunate than her who have been shipped off to Morris' and god knows where.

Then she was reminded of Snape's angry words from yesterday. They were spoken out of anger but she wondered how much of it he meant. He told her that she was there for her potions skills. Did Snape go to Morris' for his other needs? Would she need to meet those needs? And most importantly, if she didn't, would she end up there?

Her biggest fear was the outside world. She was no longer free to roam that world. Here, in this house, despite her temperamental keeper, she was unharmed and sheltered. If it meant having to get on his good side and getting, for the lack of a better word, 'cozy' with Snape, she would.

As she came to this conclusion, he walked down the stairs, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers. His hair was still damp and he smelled of mint and citrus. It really wouldn't be such a hardship on her to sate his urges. She didn't find the man unattractive and he was no sadist.

"Stop dawdling around," he broke her out of her daze. "I specifically remember asking you for breakfast."

"Yes, Sn- Severus," she replied hurriedly. She still thought of him as Snape, her ex-teacher and spy. She them hurriedly brought out the food from the oven that was keeping it warm. Without a wand, she could not simply cast a warming spell on the food. She then went on to make him coffee, black with one sugar, and stood out of way as he sat down to eat.

"Will you not join me?" he asked her as if she did something offensive by staying out of his way. She was never sure with the man, if he wanted her to eat with him or not. But after yesterday's conversation, she knew better than to start another conversation today.

They ate silently and she followed him down to his lab once the kitchen was clean.

Today, he simply wrote a list of tasks on the board for her to do. She realised that she had in fact, never skinned a cactus fruit before and had no idea how to do it.

When she got to the task, she paused and watched Snape as he continued reading and writing notes down into his little leather notebook. As if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I've never skinned one before," she told him lamely holding up with prickly fruit.

He took a fruit as he walked past her and skillfully peeled it with a knife. He then looked at her expectantly, as if she should have been able to do it.

"I…" but she shut her mouth and tried her best to mimic motions.

While the task itself was hard enough, his proximity to her and his breath tickling the nape of her neck did not help at all.

Her fingers slipped from the watery and slick fruit and a thorn pricked her just hard enough to draw blood. He looked at her disapprovingly as she dropped both objects in her hand.

"Clumsy girl," he criticized her.

He approached her and grasped her injured hand by the wrist and inspected the wound. As he looked down at her, she wondered if he would yell at her again or perhaps heal it. Much to her relief, she waved his wand and healed the prick before stepping away from her.

"Thank you, Severus," she told him gratefully and relieved.

"Try again," he told her without acknowledging her thanks.

This time before her knife even touched the fruit. Snape walked behind her and wrapped his hand around hers in the correct form. Forcing her to breathe and relax her muscles, Hermione tried to act unaffected by this.

"Like this," he motioned as he used her hands to skin the fruit.

Despite the motion only lasting a few seconds, to her, it appeared like an eternity. Once it was finally done, she had hoped that he would move away from her and return to his own work, but he did not. Instead, he took the knife from her and from his position behind her, he began to cut up the second fruit that Hermione unsuccessfully cut into little cubes. His nimble finger picked one up and lifted it up to her lips.

"Open," he commanded her.

In her vast knowledge, she did not remember ever reading about the properties of this fruit. Was it poisonous? Deadly? But she had no choice but to open her mouth slowly and allow him to insert the unknown fruit into her mouth.

To her relief, it taster sweet and a little slimy, as for any other effects it might have she'd have to wait. But surely the man wouldn't kill her for simply not knowing how to cut the thing. Kill, maybe not, but he was evil enough to poison her.

It was only when he moved away from her and popped a piece of the fruit into his own mouth before going back to his work station that Hermione relaxed.

The whole experience left her flushed and very uncertain of her fate. She found it impossible to focus and excused herself to make them lunch.

That night as she brushed her teeth at the sink, Snape walked in behind her and holding her gaze in the mirror, he approached her gracefully. She froze and waited for his next movement in anticipation. He smirked at the effect he had on her and proceeded to brush his own teeth without giving her a second glance. He did appear quite pleased at himself the entire time.

She realised that he had no intentions of leaving the bathroom before he was done, so she finished brushing her teeth quickly and left. She could wait until he was done.

When he finished she finally had her chance to take a shower and wash off the fumes from the potion she stood over all afternoon. No wonder his hair was so sticky after a day over the cauldrons. But now, apparently that lovely job was hers.

As she walked into the bedroom she realised that the lights were still on. She had hoped the lights would be off and she could change in the darkness. But there he was, staring at her.

He had seen her naked before, she reminded herself.

But it did not make it any easier for her to drop her towel and slip on one of his large night shirts.

When she turned around she realised that he was staring appreciatively at her behind and he gave her a leering smile.

"Come," he invited her or rather commanded her to get in bed with him.

Hermione had a notion of what was about to happen. He had been looking at her intensely all day and if she were to be honest, for a few days now.

She crawled into bed and sat there awkwardly staring at the covers.

"Lay down," he proposed. She did.

He began by letting his hands roam her body, squeezing and pinching at certain places. She let out small moans and sighs of pain or shock when he did this.

"What a receptive little thing you are," he complimented as he laid a kiss on her neck. He continued to trail kisses up her neck until he capture her mouth.

His hands were not squeezing her breast. He was not especially gentle but it did not hurt either. His pelvis pressed against her left thigh as he leaned over her and she could feel his erection against her.

When his hands began to wander up her thigh, she froze and then clamped down on it.

"Do not make this any harder than it has to be," he told her.

She wondered if he would continue if she simply refused. She didn't want to find out and she was afraid that if she hurt him with her rejection he would simply send her to Madame Morris'. Better bed one man unwillingly than a dozen.

She returned to the present when she felt her shirt pulled off of her body, leaving her bare to his roaming eyes. His hooded eyes belayed nothing and she wondered uncertainly if she was pleased with her. Why she cared was a mystery to her.

When he returned to devouring her mouth, she let that thought slide from her mind and simply enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers. He wasn't grotesque or unappealing and if she simply relaxed, she was able to enjoy the feeling of his rhythmic administration.

Again, when his hands trailed back down to the apex of her thighs she clamped down but then quickly relaxed and lit his nimble fingers brush against her. It was an excitingly new feeling for her. It was like a bolt of electricity ran through her.

"You like this don't you?" he smirked knowingly.

She didn't reply.

"Don't you?" he asked again more forcefully.

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I like it," she replied obediently.

"Good girl," he mumbled as his finger probed at her and he froze. "Are you are virgin?"

"I… yes," she blushed and chided herself for such a reaction at a time like this.

"Let me teach you then," he leered at her. But instead of probing her further, he withdrew his hand and grasped her hands and led it to his hard on. "Wrap your hands around me… ahh… yes… move it up and down, gentle… that's it"

Hermione was mesmerized by the feel of the unfamiliar appendage. It was hard and yet so soft. She brushed her thumb against the tip of it to feel the soft and inviting texture of it.

By this time, he had closed his eyes and his nostrils flared in anticipation. Hermione stared at his face and felt a sense of control from the power she held over his pleasure. But when his dark eyes opened and stared down at her, she knew that she had very little control over his hunger.

He began to once again stoke her apex and she felt a feeling build up in her pelvis, like she was drowning. She knew, or rather had read about it. So this is what it felt like.

And as the realisation dawned on her, a damn broke inside of her and she was flooded with a feeling of ecstasy as she panted to regain her breath.

"My turn,"

As he said this he pressed his lips against her and began to rub himself on her tight quite firmly and quickly. And soon he came and laid back down next to her with a sigh.

Hermione could feel trails of his seeds on her thigh and curiously inspected some of it on her finger. Snape who had opened his eyes watched her intensely.

"Taste it," he whispered softly. And as if she were under the Imperius, she complied. What little she taste was salty but not unappealing to her.

Before she could analyse it any more, he was once again on top of her and kissing her with fervour. She found that she did not hate it. As his kisses lightened, she was amazed at how good it felt to be kissed by Severus Snape but that might just be the post-coital bliss talking. Thought she wasn't even sure if what they did could be considered coitus. Not that she cared, as she felt sleep descent upon her.

When Hermione woke up hours later, it was pitch black in the room. She turn on the small lamp and noticed that Snape was not in bed with her. Upon further inspection of the house, she found that he was nowhere in the house at all.

Unfortunately all the doors were still sealed and the windows would only open halfway. He was quite thorough.

But not thorough enough, she thought as she smiled to herself.

Concentrating on her magic, Hermione focused on a memory of her first time performing magic at Hogwarts, the exhilaration. An unidentifiable animal emerged from the silvery smoke and floated before her.

"Find Harry Potter, tell him, 'I am alive with Severus Snape. Safe for now. What's the plan?'"

And just like that, the smoke left the dining room through the window and floated away. Looking around her nervously, she ran back up the stairs and under the covers. But sleep would not come to her.

She heard Snape come into the house in the early mornings but he did not appear upstairs and she fell asleep trying to listen to the sounds below to figure out just what exactly he was doing downstairs.

A/N- Hello! So I wrote this instead of doing readings for school because that's just what I do. Enjoy! and as always I own nothing. The poem in here is by Charles Bukowski.

Please review is you like this. Pretty please!


	3. Chapter 3

She woke up far later than she usually would. Snape did not wake her up and she was in bed alone. He had come home earlier but was still not in bed. It irritated her that a small part of her was worried for him. If he never returned or died, she would be free and the wards on this house would drop.

She groggily got out of bed and before she could make it out of bed a large silver stag pranced into the room.

"Harry," she whispered as tears escaped her eyes.

" _I am safe with the Order, will keep in touch. Where are you? Are you safe?_ " the voice of her best friend whispered to her as the stag dissipated in the air and a gold coin appear on the flood. The coins she'd made for Dumbledore's Army.

She picked up the coin and thought her message in her mind as the coin burned.

 _Safe for now, spinner's end with Snape._

Soon another message appeared on the coin.

 _Rescue?_

Did she need to be rescued and risk the safety of order members? She was not in immediate danger and maybe… maybe Snape was not entirely evil and could help. Of course that man was shades of grey and had touched her in ways she could have never imagined… but she didn't quite mind. She was unharmed.

 _Not now. Snape loyalty?_

She hoped maybe someone in the order would know.

 _Unknown._

Guess not.

Maybe she could find out. After all, she'd like to believe that he was warming up to her.

She composed herself and began to make her way to the kitchen in an old borrowed nightshirt. It was so quiet she doubted he was even home with the silence. It was late in the morning and the man has yet to demand food from her.

Speaking of food, she was hungry. Her stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as she was about to fantasize about the delicious croissant she wanted with fresh fruit and cream, she caught sight of a bloody mummy on the couch.

Of course, like any normal witch she gasped in fear as her heart skipped a beat. Mummies were powerful creatures in the magical world.

Its eyes opened and she realised that it was none other than the eyes of one Severus Snape.

Severus Snape was not a vampire as people would like to believe, he was a mummy!

Laughter bubbled inside her chest and as hard as she tried to hide it from him, it soon became audible. He frowned at her and she tried her best to regain her composure.

"What happened to you?" she asked curiously.

"As you can see I am injured," he mumbled. "Pixies."

She recalled that they had razor sharp wings. That explained the bandages but it was an awful lot of bandages.

"Breakfast?" she proposed.

"Yes please," he sighed in relief and stood up to head to the kitchen. "Perhaps afterwards you could help me heal these wounds. How are your charms skills? Exceeds Expectations I hope."

"Well yes, but I don't have a wand," she reminded him sadly. Her wand had been an extension of her arm for years and without it she felt vulnerable.

"You may use mine," he told her simply as if lending someone his wand was a normal thing to do. It was like sharing a toothbrush in the wizarding world. It was personal on an emotional level. Maybe he didn't have emotions… that would explain it.

Hermione cast the thought out of her head as she put the kettle on and began to fry some food for breakfast. Out of the corner of her eyes she noticed Snape getting food out of the fridge and chopping with his bandaged hands.

"What are you doing?" she asked a little too sharply.

"Chopping."

"You're injured," she chided as she moved away from her pan to take the knife away from him. The kettle boiled and she smiled widely at him. "Tea? Sit, let me get you a cup!"

As she moved around the kitchen to get him his tea in his favourite mug she realized that she was being far too nice to this man. But considering he was covered head to toe in cuts, she would give him a break. After all, she suspected that he wasn't an awful man deep down inside and she couldn't even let an awful man suffer.

He was injured and by Merlin she'd make sure he healed.

Soon they were both sitting with a cup of tea and a large platter of fried foods. She was famished and began to devour her food happily.

Snape on the other hand sipped his tea slowly and watched the strange little witch shovel food into her mouth in a slightly less than dignified manner. Still he found her somehow endearing. She was bossy and uncouth at times but he liked it coming from her.

While he did not usually have much of an appetite, ever since she's arrived, he found himself eating more and more. Perhaps it was the meals she made, they far surpassed his. Not that he'd ever tell her. But perhaps it was the way she ate that made everything seem so much more delicious.

He picked up his fork and began to take bitefuls of beans and meats.

Once the meal was done, Snape flicked his wand and the dishes began to wash themselves much to Hermione's surprise. Did he not usually want to torture her with sinkfuls of dishes?

"If you would follow me," he commanded quietly. There was something in his voice that made Hermione shiver slightly and follow without even questioning what was about to happen.

As they made it up to his bedroom she began to worry whether or not she hid the golden coin well enough. She looked at the floorboard she'd hit it under and sighed in relief. It looked normal like all the other ones.

While she did this she failed to notice that Snape had shed all of his bandages and was not sitting on the bed in ripped clothing.

"A little help would be appreciated," he mumbled gruffly.

"Right right," she hurried to his side to help him slip his arm out of his shirt without irritation the wounds further. Some were already scabbing to the shirt and began to bleed as she peeled it away from his skin. "May- May I have your wand?"

He looked at her warily and must have found what he was looking for because he laid his wand simply on the bed.

As she reached for his wand, she could sense the magic already coursing through her body. A white wisp of smoke floated out of the wand as she held it and it seemed to shock Snape but he kept quiet.

He watched carefully as she healed his many small cuts one by one as she helped him undress. The warmth and tingle of the spell enwrapped him and he wanted nothing more than to sleep and before he knew it he felt his bed hit the pillow and covers over his body. He wondered briefly if she'd cast a spell on him.

Never in her life would Hermione believe that Severus Snape would look peaceful and handsome. But somehow that was the only way she could describe the man as he laid there in bed sound asleep. She put his wand on the bedside table and decided that she could do with about short nap as well. After all, the old house was drafty and Severus Snape made a great heater.

When she woke up again she was cocoon in warmth and softness. She felt a hand brushing the hair at the nape of her neck. She gave a soft sigh and her eyes fluttered open. Severus Snape's obsidian eyes stared back at her softly and not for the first time, she wondered what he was thinking about. She had never seen his eyes look so soft.

"Hello," was all she could think about saying as he stared at her.

Almost too fast to be seen, a small upturn of his lips appeared but was quickly replace with his standard thin lipped look of disinterest.

"I hope you slept well," he said almost sarcastically.

"Um… yes?" she replied a little confused at his 180o. "You?"

"I slept very well until I was smothered by an insurmountable amount of hair," he recalled.

It was then that she realised that her hair was all over his chest and creeping up to his face. She was in fact using him as a pillow and was wrapped around him like Devil's Snare.

As she scrambled to move away from him in embarrassment his arms tightened around her and she only managed to move her head onto a pillow. Unfortunately, her far was not inches from him.

"It seems you are quite affectionate in your sleep," he teased her with a predatory smile. "Will you be far less affectionate once awake?"

Imaged of their previous activities in bed floated to the surface as her eyes glazed over in desire. She recalled the feeling of her climax and the feel of his hand on her body.

Perhaps it was a spell, or she was confused but she wanted him.

"What do you want kitten?" he asked her softly as if he just knew.

"I…" she didn't know how to put it into words but she needed him closer, she wanted to taste his lips again and so she leaned in and took what she wanted.

At first he didn't respond to be and tensed but soon he relaxed and deepened the kiss and let his hands roam over her body, he wanted nothing more than to never leave this moment in time and space.

But he couldn't.

He had a potion to get back to and while their earlier encounters were meant for a more practical purpose, he would have no way to justify his actions not. This was selfish.

"Please?" she begged him lustfully.

And that was all it took for him to return to kissing and caressing her body. Perhaps it did not need to be selfish if it was for her. If this was all he could offer her at this time, then he would at the cost of his soul… if he still had one.


	4. Chapter 4

Once Severus had helped her reach her peak, he untangled himself from her and headed to the loo. Hermione stared after him dazed and confused. To her knowledge, he did not satisfy himself and yet caressed her until she felt more pleasure than she thought imaginable.

She reminisced about those skillful fingers until she heard the shower start.

He really wasn't going to finish. She felt her face flush at how wanton she'd been and proceeded to find her discarded clothes.

As she stood up she realised that perhaps she could also do with a shower and a small devious part of her told her to just join the man in the shower.

She wanted him physically and it was clear that he did as well. Perhaps if she seduced him he would also be less suspicious of her in the future. She knew that it was wrong but she was only one woman and she was one driven by her body at the moment.

As she walked into the washroom shamelessly naked, Severus peaked out of the shower curtains and looked at her in confusion. But Hermione could not help but focus on the ink black hair that was slicked back and how handsome he seemed. Perhaps it was just lust but she wanted to run her hands all over the man.

"Pray tell, what are you doing here?" he asked in his sternest tone. But his current position was not what one would consider stern.

"Can I… Could I come shower too?" she asked coyly but they both knew she wanted more than just the shower.

"Hermione…" he trailed off exasperated.

"I'll be good," she promised with a smile as she slipped in and Severus simply complied.

She stared at the tall, dark, and very wet and naked man in the shower so close to her and felt herself react to him.

"Do you wish to wash yourself or simply stare?" he teased her lightly.

"Both," she flirted as she lathered some body wash onto her body.

She was lost in thought as she wondered exactly what her motivations were. She found the man so infuriatingly attractive and wanted to touch him. Perhaps it was a lust potion but she doubted it. She was not that oblivious. Most likely, she analysed, it was because of the close confines and her lack of human contact.

And Severus Snape was quite a looker, apparently. She wondered how she's never noticed.

"Have you always looked this handsome?" she asked quietly.

For a moment, Severus thought he'd misheard her. But her blush told him otherwise. What was she playing at?

"What a foolish notion," he frowned at her lightly and spun around so him back was facing her. "Perhaps you could be of use and wash my back."

"Oh- of course," she jumped at the opportunity.

As she washed him she observed the small scatter of scars that were on his back. She wondered where they came from and she ached to make it better. She traces the longest one with her hand and a tingle passed through her. Severus spun around staring at her with curious eyes as he quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower leaving her alone.

Hermione washed up and followed suit.

Just as she entered the room, Severus finished buttoning the last of him many buttons on his black frock coat and looked over to her.

"I will be back at 6. Have a meal prepared," he told her somberly.

"Have a nice outing," Hermione teased in a sing-song voice.

He simply glared at her.

When she heard the front door close and lock, she rushed to the floorboard where the coin was hidden under.

 _Still alive?_

The message read. She hoped it was a joke.

 _Yes_

Moments later a reply.

 _It's Ron here_

 _Glad to hear_

 _Unharmed?_

 _Yes but with Snape_

 _Prisoner_

 _Yes_

 _Breakout?_

 _Not yet_

 _Info?_

 _Will try_

For the first time, Hermione realised that while the coins were great, communication by the coins were painful.

The following sequences of short sentences appeared.

 _Need to know. People alive. Wands/Olivander. Location of Tom. For coup._

Hermione knew that she would be able to help with where Riddle was.

 _Possibly Malfoys Manor. Will find out rest. Later. Love you guys._

Hermione knew that she had risked enough time relaying messages to Ron and left the coin back into the floorboard and headed downstairs to look at what supplies were left in the cupboards.

Fortunately, there was enough supplies for her to make a simple pasta and turnovers for desert. She wasn't sure why, but once she had everything under control in the kitchen, she had the odd urge to bake Severus something sweet.

She was not oblivious to her situation and her feelings. She knew she was here as a captive and that she had to get out. But a small part of her simply enjoyed not being in a dingy cell and not being tortured. Instead here she was in a small little kitchen baking turnover for a man who gave her wonderful orgasms. But it wouldn't be turnovers and orgasms forever, and she knew that. Soon, inevitably the coup would happen and she would either be dead or free of Severus.

Severus Snape, her fearsome old Potion's Professor. A spy for the Order. Dumbledore's killer. Her captor. He was also a complex man with a past she knew nothing of. He had scars on his back and he always looked shocked when Hermione wanted to touch him or kiss him. A part of her wanted to heal the broken man.

He had taken advantage of her at first yet he kept her safe for the most part. She was warm and sated in a cozy little house. She wondered where his loyalties lied but knew that she would probably never know. For now, he was a man she lived with and help power over her yet he didn't abuse it or her.

Instead he made her feel like a woman and gave her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginations. She wasn't a prude and had read about the physical dynamics between men and women. However, with the war raging and only Ron as a potential suitor, she didn't have much practical experience until now.

And now she wanted more.

But for now, the turnovers were done and she best set the table. If situations were different, Hermione would have enjoyed the domesticity of the scene as she hummed a tune while making the table. But she knew that the man felt nothing more but lust for her and possibly pity.

When Severus was still not home by 7 in the afternoon Hermione began to worry about him and then about herself. If Severus died, what would that mean for her? Perhaps she would be freed from his wards and she could go find Harry. Or maybe they would come and collect her only to give her to the next most loyal subject.

She began pacing and fixing small things around the kitchen as she peaked at the door every so often. When at 7:23, the door swung open, Hermione couldn't help but beam when she saw Severus walk in. She tried to tell herself it was because she did not want to be passed off.

"You're back!" she walked over to help him with the parcels he was carrying. Had she looked at his face and was not so concerned about the parcels she might have noticed the look of surprise on his face which morphed to amusement.

"An astute observation," he said sarcastically but with no real bite. Instead he smelled the air and appeared content. "Smells delicious."

"Food is ready when you are," she let him know as she moved the parcels to the small table by the door.

"Thank you," he mumbled a little unaccustomed to having someone around when he returned and decided to proceed as he usually would when he got home from shopping.

He moved to take most of the parcels down to his lab to be sorted at a later time. While he did this, Hermione seemed to have vanished. He was a little uncomfortable with this new development between them. She was less subdued now than when she first came and she seemed to even seek out his touch. New she would be asking him about his day and baking him cookies.

It was only when Hermione made him tea and brought him over a turnover that Severus' mind clicked as to exactly what was going on.

He knew it was too good to be true but he couldn't fault her.

"So how was your day?" she asked him innocently. "Where did you go?"

So he indulged her and played into her little game. He told her anything she wanted easily and gave her any information she needed.

The potion was almost done and soon this would all be over he thought as Hermione gave a little yawn and stretched. Perhaps he should cherish these odd moments with the little woman that now invaded his space.

"Perhaps it is time for bed," he told her decidedly as he stood. When she looked at him expectantly he added, "I will join you once I have sorted the ingredients."

"Good night Severus," she bid him as she leaned towards him and dropped a kiss onto his cheek. She wasn't quite sure what urged her to do it but she knew deep down inside that Severus Snape was good. He had to be.

A/N- Hello! I hope you enjoy this story so far. Unfortunately I lost the plot a while back so this is just me making things up as we go.

So if you would like something to happen or have ideas for this story, please let me know! I will try to keep this story short though.


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